The Trio
by DiscordianSamba
Summary: AU. Amity Park is peaceful place to live. With all the conveniences of a large city, but none of the crime, it seems like a utopia. But lurking in the town is a deep, dark evil, one that takes the form of three seemingly normal teenagers. If you keep your wits about you, and commit no sin, then you may just live to see another day. If not... well, sometimes people just go missing.
1. A Nice Place to Live

Author's Note: So uh, this had been planned to be a one shot but um. It... didn't end up staying that way, as you can clearly see. The more I wrote, the more I liked it and so therefore- oops, new AU. I didn't realize how much I wanted a creepy children DP AU until I started to write this, to be honest- turns out that I wanted it, very, _very_ much. Welcome to the horror show, please enjoy your stay.

That said, I'm going to try and work out a proper update order, but I don't have anything solid quite yet? I will probably have it figured out next time I updated a fic, so I'll post about it there in case anyone is interested. It probably won't be a hard and fast schedule or a posting order, but it's probably a good thing to have. This and _Spectral Revolution_ will be my last new stories for awhile.

Danny Phantom is not mine, of course. Please do tell me what you think if you can! I love all of y'all to bits.

* * *

The Trio

Chapter One: A Nice Place to Live

Maybe if he just stayed hidden, he would be safe. He would be safe, and then he could slip away, away from this accursed town, away from this place with it's cursed and haunted children.

He had thought it wasn't true, he had thought it was a lie. A rumor that the students spread amongst themselves.

_"Come out, come out wherever you are~."_

The man's heart pounded inside of his chest as the girl called out, and he had to bite down on his tongue to keep from giving himself away, his breaths short and shallow. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. If only he had a weapon, some kind of weapon, then he could get away, he would be safe and he could flee from here.

Although against one of them, a weapon would be useless. It was impossible to kill something _already _dead after all.

It hadn't been his fault, it was just a bad thing that had happened- so why was he being hunted like this?

The footsteps finally stopped, as if they had stopped searching for him. He had to hold back his sigh of relief when he heard them leave the room, the door shutting behind them. Maybe he would get away from this alive after all. He would get in his car and he would drive away from here, and never look back on this accursed town.

It would be a nice, peaceful place to live, he had been told. It would be a nice, peaceful school to teach at, he had been told. He really should have taken the job in Chicago instead.

His shoulders slumped, and he finally let out a breath of relief once he heard their footsteps fade down the hall. He would be safe, he would get out of here. Perhaps they thought he had already run away, and were going to look for him elsewhere. Whatever happened, he was not going to die.

Not because some fool of a girl decided to hang herself, that was for sure.

_"Found you."_

The man screamed, finding himself torn out from his hiding place, a cold shiver running through his body as he was yanked unceremoniously through the storage closet he had holed himself up in. He made the mistake of looking back as he was tossed onto the ground, feeling his heart pound all the harder as his gaze fell on those blazing green eyes. Oh no, no, no, _**no**_.

"You're pretty bad at hide and seek, Mr. Wright!" The boy declared, a wicked grin on his face, eyes shining even in the darkness of the room. He didn't move even as the teacher got to his feet, scrambling from the room, throwing the door open. He had to get away, get away from here, get away from _him_.

He didn't want to disappear.

Not like the others.

"Oh, there you are! We were looking all over for you!" A girl's voice met his ears, something unhinged in it's tone. Violet eyes stared down at him, a maniac glint in them. When he screamed and turned to run in the other direction, he found that it was blocked.

"You can't run away like that, Mr. Wright!" The other boy said, his blue eyes shadowed by the gleam of the faint light cast on his glasses by the security lights along the darkened hall. "You haven't received your judgement yet!"

"I didn't do anything to deserve judgement! Not from the likes of you!" Mr. Wright nearly hissed out, putting up a false show of bravado. "You're all children! What do you even understand about justice!?"

"I think that Abigail Richards would protest to that idea." Their friend, their _accursed _friend, joined them now, passing through the wall behind the teacher, as if it weren't even there, and Wright didn't need to turn around to know that his acid green eyes were fixed on the back of his head.

"I had nothing to do with that girl's death." The teacher said sharply. "She took her own life, that couldn't possibly be my fault."

"You lied to her." The girl spoke again. "You were her favorite teacher, Mr. Wright! So loved by the student body. You encouraged her to write, to express herself, to do what she loved! And then when she handed you her masterpiece, something she spent hours on you took it, and promised her that you would look over it."

"I did!" The teacher protested. "I never lied to her. I corrected her errors and told her what to fix!"

"Then you stole it." The young man with the glasses said, a look of condemnation written on his face. "You stole her plot, all of her hard work, all of her ideas, and claimed it as your own. You gained a lot of fame from that short story, didn't you? Publishers began to contact you, your phone was ringing off the hook. It must have felt really nice. And you didn't even have to do a thing!"

"She was so upset, she felt so hurt and betrayed. She tried to tell people, but nobody believed her." The boy- no, not a boy, a monster, truly a monster- behind him spoke, and a cold shiver ran down Wright's spine as his cold hand was placed on his shoulder. "You tossed her out, accused her of lying, vying for attention, suggested she was crying out for help. After all, why would someone listen to the cries of the outcast girl over the school's most loved teacher?"

"She couldn't take it." The girl spoke again, closing in on him, and suddenly, the teacher felt as if there were not enough air left, as if the very hallways were closing in on him. "She couldn't take the rumors that spread about her, the bullying that ensued."

"So she hung herself." The third one now closed in on him, and they formed a circle about him. Fear rose in the teacher's throat- but they were just teenagers! He was an adult, he had nothing to fear from three teens. "You robbed her of her life."

"I did no such thing!" Wright protested, making one last, desperate attempt to break away from them- but he couldn't remove himself from the powerful grip of the ghost boy behind him, caught by the wrists and forced down to the ground, finding himself trapped there by a boot to the back of his head.

"What say ye, judge?" The ghost boy asked, glancing over towards the other boy, the human boy, in the group.

"Guilty."

"What say ye, jury?" The ghost boy asked now, turning to look at the girl.

"Guilty. What say ye, o executioner?" She asked, her violet eyes meeting with the ghost's green.

"**Guilty**."

"Then the verdict has been decided!" The 'judge' declared, raising his hands in the air, before he began to applaud. "The punishment for a death is a death!"

"To give evil onto evil where it is due." The 'jury' agreed, nodding her head, seeming rather pleased with this verdict.

"Punishment for your sins, William Wright." The 'executioner' echoed, nodding his head.

"No, please, reconsider-" But the teacher's cries met deaf ears, as the three teenagers simply gazed down at him, wicked smiles on their faces, and a mad glint in their eyes.

Then he knew no more.

* * *

The town of Amity Park, Illinois, was not a place that Jasmine Fenton had ever heard of before. It was a rather remote city, although it was one that boasted many of the features of the larger cities still. It sounded like a nice place to live, to be honest, a low crime rate, friendly people-

And mysterious, unreported disappearances.

Sometimes people in Amity Park just mysteriously vanished. Nobody ever filed missing persons reports for them, nobody ever really looked for them, they just seemed to vanish off the face of the Earth.

And that was why she had been sent here. It would be her first assignment on her own, an intelligence gathering mission. She would be going undercover, acting as a normal citizen of Amity Park. Her job would be filling the role of an English teacher, taking the place of one who had mysteriously vanished a month before. The FBI had no leads, no clues as to what could have possibly caused this, and everything they looked into turned up a dead end.

Whatever was happening in Amity Park- and had been happening for at least three years now, was something that nobody wanted to talk about.

And that was why they had sent Jazz. She wasn't sure why they had picked her- surely an older agent would have been more qualified, but she was no about to protest the decision of her superiors. Thus, the twenty four year old woman had moved to Amity Park to begin the life of a high school teacher.

Pulling into the school where she would be teaching for at least the next year, Casper High School, she parked her car, giving her appearance one last final check before she stepped out. She looked the part of the teacher she thought, her hair swept up into a bun, wearing a nice, but not too nice, suit and flat heels. Making her way into the main office, she greeted the receptionist.

"Good day. Is my class information all sorted out?" She asked her.

"It is indeed, Miss Fenton." The woman behind the desk smiled, pulling out a cabinet and passing her a folder full of student information. "We're in such luck, finding a highly qualified teacher to fill Mr. Wright's shoes so quickly. We were afraid that finding one as skilled as he was would be most difficult."

"Oh yes, thank you." Jazz said, taking the folder from her. She felt a bit guilty- most of her credentials had been faked, forged by the higher ups, even her age raised to twenty eight to give her more creditability. "I look forward to teaching here."

"Ah yes, one thing Miss Fenton." The receptionist said, glancing over at her. "You've got a trio of troublemakers in your class. Well, at most they're harmless pranksters, but I still advise you not to get on their bad sides." She warned her- and something in the woman's expression made Jazz think that she wasn't telling her the whole truth. She held her tongue though, not wanting to blow her cover on her first day.

"Oh yes, I'll be sure to keep my eyes out then." Jazz said, nodding her head. "Do you happen to have their names...?" She ventured.

"Samantha Manson, Tucker Foley, and Daniel Phantom." The woman ticked off- and at the last name, especially, a hint of fear flickered in her eyes. Was she afraid of them? But they were just teenagers, weren't they? Somehow Jazz got the feeling that the trio of friends were more than just 'harmless pranksters'.

"Phantom?" Jazz inquired. "What a strange last name."

"Oh yes, that." The woman said. "You'll understand _that _when you meet him."

Jazz blinked, but as the woman turned back to her work, she assumed that she would get no more out of her. Opening up the file folder, she made her way to the classroom, and begun to get ready for the day. The halls still empty of students, she still couldn't help the feeling that she was being watched. Shaking it off, surely she was just being a bit paranoid, she took a seat at her new desk, and looked around the classroom.

One thing quickly struck her, and that was how close the first row of desk seemed to her own. Upon a closer examination, it appeared that the cause of this was the other students moving up their seats more so that they distanced themselves from the ones in the very back row. Frowning, she stood up, thinking of changing it back to the way it should be- and then decided perhaps she should not. She should observe for now.

Sitting back down, she turned to the student roll, pulling out the seating chart at the same time so she could see where they all belonged. "Baxter, Dash. Sanchez, Paulina. Chen, Kwan. Rivers, Star. Gray, Valerie..." She began, placing a hand on the list of students and scanning through it.

It was the last three students on the roster that caught her eye and her finger paused, hovering over them. "Manson, Samantha. Foley, Tucker. Phantom, Daniel." Like she had suspected, they sat in the last row, in the seats alienated from everyone else. Shuffling through the papers she had been given, she found photographs with matching names, scanning them until she found photos of the first two.

Samantha Manson appeared to be a goth, that much she could tell. Jet black hair and eyes an unusual shade of violet, the sixteen year old girl didn't look exactly happy to have her picture taken. The one next to her was Tucker Foley, an African-American teen, a red beret tucked over a handful of short dreadlocks, with red framed glasses over worn over blue eyes.

There was no photo available of Daniel.

Searching through the folder, she came upon notes, left to her by the substitute that had filled the role until Jazz had taken the job. Dash and Kwan were on the football team, so be sure to keep the games in mind, Star and Paulina were cheerleaders, so likewise, they had wrote. Valerie Gray had some anger issues, very standard stuff. However, when it came to the last three students, all that was written down was one, very hastily jotted down note.

_'Whatever you do, don't cross The Trio.'_

These kids were sounding less and less like harmless pranksters, and more and more like something that Jazz should worry about. Still, she didn't think that they were related to her investigation at hand. Whoever was causing these disappearances probably had to be older than a teenager. Something like this had to be the work of adults, she thought, and began to put her introduction packet back in order.

Eventually, students began filing into the classroom, stopping to look when they realized that their normal substitute teacher had been replaced. She recognized them from their photographs, and watched them take their seats. Among the last to stream in were Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson, who stopped longer to look at the new teacher than the rest, before they too, took their seats, and begun muttering amongst themselves.

No one who looked like they could be Daniel entered the classroom.

Eventually the bell rang, signaling the start of homeroom. Smiling, Jazz stood up, and walked over to the blackboard, writing down her name before turning back to the class. "I'd like to introduce myself." She began, smiling at them. "I'm going to be with you for the next year as your new, permanent teacher. Please call me Miss Fenton."

There were some low murmurs amongst the students- and oddly, some of them began to glance back at Sam and Tucker, who simply stared placidly at Jazz. For having a reputation as troublemakers, they didn't seem to be doing much out of the ordinary. Picking up the roster from her desk, she smiled again. "I'll start by calling roll. When I call your name, please stand up, and tell me something about yourself, alright? I'd like to get to know you all."

They all seemed to be good students, she thought, as she called out their names. Paulina's father owned the local country club, Valerie worked part time at a fast food joint called The Nasty Burger.

Then it came to be Samantha's turn.

"Call me Sam." The sixteen year old girl began, standing up and giving Jazz a smile. There was something almost... assessing in her gaze, that put Jazz off. She'd seen some of her coworkers look at suspects that way, and having that gaze turned on her, by someone so young, was more than a little disconcerting. "My hobbies include gothic poetry, the occult, and telling ghost stories. I'm a vegetarian."

With that, she took a seat, and Jazz nodded her head. Some interesting hobbies but, she seemed normal enough. "Tucker Foley?"

The bespectacled teen next to her stood up, flashing her a huge grin. "I'm Tucker Foley, that's TF as in Too Fine." He introduced himself, winking at her. "I'm a wiz with computers, so if you ever need any help with yours, Miss Fenton, I'm the guy to call. Unlike my misguided friend here," he said, motioning towards Sam. "I'm a proud connoisseur of meat products."

With that, he sat down, and Jazz couldn't help but raise her brows, swearing that she had just been hit on. The two friends couldn't be more different, she thought, marking the boy as present. "Daniel Phantom?" She called out, almost hesitantly. She didn't think he was here, after all.

"Present!"

A shiver ran down Jazz's spine as she looked around the room, trying to peg where the voice had come from. It wasn't one of the other students making mimicry, this voice was too different from the rest, and there was a strange, faint echo to it at that. Sam and Tucker let out a faint snicker, and everyone else in the classroom just seemed to be trying to keep their heads down.

"Daniel?" She asked, standing up, looking around for him. "Where exactly are you?"

"I'm at my desk!" The voice said, and it was clearly battling back laughter. A quick glance at the boy's desk, and very clearly, nobody was there.

Scowling a little, not appreciating being made fun of, Jazz approached his desk. "Oh really?" She asked, placing a hand on it, frowning as she glared down at the chair. "It looks pretty empty to me, Daniel. Is this your way of hazing a new teacher?" She asked, glancing around the room, noting that Sam and Tucker were barely able to hold in their laughter at this point. "Why don't you just come out from wherever you're hiding, okay? I don't find this joke all that funny."

"Maybe you're right." Daniel's voice floated through the room, and Jazz frowned, trying again to pinpoint where it was coming from. "Hey, teach?"

"What?" Jazz sighed, reaching up to rub her forehead, already starting to feel the oncoming headache. Pranksters indeed, she thought.

_"Boo."_

The first thing to appear were green eyes, a blazing, glowing acid green, which appeared right in front of her face. The rest of the young boy's body soon followed, and Jazz quickly found herself face to face with a white haired sixteen year old boy, who for all the world, appeared to have manifested from thin air, floating upside down in the air above her, a wide grin on his face.

Understandably, she lost her composure, letting out a small yelp as she slipped, landing on her rear. Her aqua eyes went wide, staring open mouthed at the impossible sight before her, eyes transfixed on those of the boy's.

Suddenly, unbidden, her father's ramblings floated back to her mind. Ghosts, ghosts, and more ghosts, the man had been obsessed with ghosts for all of Jazz's life, and she thought him mad for it.

"Surprised?" Daniel grinned, turning right side up, but remained floating, as if he was content to do so for the rest of his days. "I guess nobody at the front tells the new staff anymore. You're not from Amity Park, I take it, are you Miss Fenton?" He asked her, offering her a hand. With a slight hesitation, she took it, noticing that he seemed to be surrounded by a strange glow, and that his hand was as cold as ice.

"You're a..." She began, sucking in her breath. His hair was as white as snow, worn in a shaggy mess. The hood of his black hoodie hung down, and it was unzipped, splitting some kind of white logo that she couldn't quite make out in half. Blue jeans, which appeared to be worn and ripped in places, and dark brown boots, which from the lack of wear and tear, seemed as if they had never once touched the ground.

"A ghost?" Sam finished, grinning from ear to ear, peering at them from her desk. "Welcome to Amity Park, Miss Fenton. Sometimes things aren't all that normal around here."

"Ghosts aren't real." Jazz found herself saying dumbly, in spite of the glowing, floating child in front of her.

"Well, that hurts a guy's spirits!" Daniel frowned. "And it's not Daniel, Miss Fenton. Phantom, call me Phantom. Daniel is way too formal." He told her, grinning as he floated over towards his desk, taking a seat in it. No, she noted, he didn't actually sit down, but rather appeared to be casually hovering over his chair. "I can assure you that I am very real."

"But..." Jazz stammered.

"Oh right, my facts!" Phantom said, grinning at her as if for all the world everything was normal. "Right well, I'm Phantom, I'm a ghost. Sam and Tucker are my best friends in the world, and I'm rather fond of space and the stars. My favorite band is Humpty Dumpty and I'm a dog person."

"The three of us are Team Phantom!" Tucker interjected, grinning as he glanced from Sam to Phantom, holding out his fists. The remaining members of The Trio returned the fist bump, grinning at each other- before they all cast their eyes in unison towards Jazz. "We're the best of friends, you see, Miss Fenton."

"Such good friends." Sam echoed in agreement.

"Such good friends, that I wouldn't let a little thing like dying get in the way of us graduating high school together." Phantom spoke up, smiling at the teacher. "There shouldn't be a problem with that, should there be? I'm a legally registered student, after all, it's not like you can refuse to teach me just because I'm a ghost. I'm pretty sure that would be discrimination."

"I'm sorry, I'm just..." Jazz opened and closed her mouth. Her father had been right all this time. He'd never been mad at all. Ghosts were real- or at least something close to them. Whatever this boy, this Phantom was, she was smart enough to know that he wasn't human. Dimly, she wondered if her superiors had known about this when they sent her here, and wondered if the reason she had been chosen over older, more experienced agents was because her father was a ghost hunter. "I didn't expect this. It's not..."

"Normal?" Sam's eyebrows arched, a slight smirk forming on her face. "You'll soon find that in Amity Park, you'll have to readjust your definition of normal, Miss Fenton."

"Otherwise you might break." Tucker echoed. "We wouldn't want to lose a new teacher again so soon. And we did so like our previous one. It's a shame he had to go and up and run away."

"Such a shame." Phantom agreed, nodding his head. "But I think we'll get along just fine, Miss Fenton." He told her- and she barely noticed when the school bell rung, signaling the end of homeroom. "Ah, there's the bell. We'll see you in third period, Miss Fenton. I'm looking forward to seeing what kind of teacher you are."

The rest of the students of her homeroom class seemed as if they couldn't be in more of a hurry to run out of the room, save for Valerie Gray, who lingered behind them, casting a slight glower towards The Trio- all of whom caught it, and smiled rather placidly back towards her. The Trio were the last to leave, and Jazz had to take a slight step back as Phantom seemed to phase through his desk, floating after Sam as she took her leave. Tucker lingered longer than them, and stopped in the doorway, glancing back at her.

"Oh, and Miss Fenton?" He began, grinning at her. "You probably should be careful about what kind of secrets you keep in Amity Park. We don't really like secrets much." He warned her- and for a moment, Jazz caught a glint of something in his eyes, before he smiled again. "Just keep that in mind, and I think we'll get along just fine! Sorry Danny spooked out- he does that to everyone. It's just his way of saying hello."

With that, the last member of the Trio left, and she could just make out them discussing the next period's homework as they walked away.

Once alone, Jazz let out a breath that she didn't know she had been holding, her heart pounding fiercely in her chest. She had gone through a ton of training in order to enter the FBI, was always considered at the top of her class- so she was no fool. She knew trouble when she saw it, and she slowly began to understand why the receptionist had looked so afraid when she had brought up the members of 'Team Phantom'.

Because under the masks that they wore, those of an innocent group of teenage friends, there was something terribly, horribly, utterly wrong with those children. And there was much more to it than just one of their members being not among the living.

Suddenly, Jazz wished that she hadn't taken this assignment at all.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

* * *

"Hey, hey, did you hear the latest ghost story?"

Her student's whispers caught Jazz's attention, and she covertly glanced up from the book she was skimming over. After her encounter with Team Phantom in homeroom class, she had managed to regain her composure- she couldn't risk blowing this on the first day of her new assignment. Although there was still the knot of dread forming in her stomach, she knew full well that she had already accepted this task, and that she couldn't just abandon it right at the start- she'd be fired for sure.

Recalling Sam mentioning earlier that she liked ghost stories, she decided to listen into her student's whispers. In order to get to know them better, she had decided to make her first assignment a short essay on something that was important to them, an easy assignment to ease her way into her first day of teaching. She hoped that none of her other coworkers noticed that she didn't have the experience that she was supposed to have.

"From Manson?" The other girl hissed to her friend. "You shouldn't listen to her stories. Doesn't she curse people?"

"Only _bad _people." Her friend whispered, unaware that their teacher could hear them, and was paying very close attention to them. "Come on, her ghost stories are neat. They make chills crawl up my spine! Who better to listen to ghost stories from than someone who is best friends with a real ghost?"

Apparently, the rest of Casper High had long since come to accept Phantom's presence amongst the student body. They didn't seem to question it, but Jazz wasn't sure if that was just something that had happened over time- or if they were too afraid of them to ever bring it up. She suspected that it was mostly the latter.

"Alright, _fine_. Spill." The other girl whispered. "It's better than this dumb assignment anyways." At that, Jazz's eye twitched a little- she had thought that it was a _great _assignment, thank you _very_ much.

"Right, right. Do you know about the Ghostwriter?" The other girl's friend whispered. "They say once, long ago, he was a teacher and a failure of a writer. He had great skill, but he had no real imagination, and everyone thought what he wrote was very boring. But he had a bright young student in his class, with a vivid imagination. And so one day, he thought, why not take ideas from her? Surely no one would notice."

"And?"

"And he wrote a short story using them, all ripped off from the girl. Suddenly, everyone wanted to publish him, and he was even offered a book deal. But that's when the girl read the short story and realized that these were her ideas." The girl whispered. Some other students were listening in now, Jazz noticed out of the corner of her eyes, all eager to hear the story. Apparently, Sam had a reputation for spreading these around.

Still, there was something about this set up that struck her as oddly familiar...

"She came out and accused him, but nobody believed her. In the end, she ended up being called a liar and was bullied by her classmates. She couldn't take it, so she hung herself."

"So she became the Ghostwriter?"

"No, no." The girl telling the story shook her head. "Not her. You see, she was so distraught, even death couldn't assuage her pain. She came back to this world as a spirit, determined to drag the one who had stolen her life from her to an early grave. She haunted the teacher who stole her ideas, never letting him rest, day or night, until eventually, he too, took his own life." She whispered. "After that, her ghost vanished, but the teacher's lived on, becoming the Ghostwriter. They say that he lurks about the room of writers, stealing words from their heads and killing them if they turn out to be better than him.

"Good thing I'm not a writer then. And you tell this story when we're all writing essays why, exactly?" The girl's friend hissed.

"Is there ever a better time to tell a ghost story about writers?" She asked, grinning a little. "Don't tell me that you're scared~. It's just a story, after all."

"I'm not scared, I just don't like that Manson girl. She's _creepy_." Her friend huffed. "I still think you shouldn't be spending any time around her. Some of her crazy might rub off on you and next thing you know, you'll be coming into school wearing black lipstick and purple eyeshadow."

The girl snorted, rolling her eyes. "Goth isn't contagious."

Frowning, Jazz set her book down, saving the page with a bookmark, and turned towards the computer on her desk. Something about that story had struck her as familiar indeed- and not just because it was about an English teacher. William Wright had been one, hadn't he? She was filling his place, after all, she thought, bringing up the website for Amity Park's local newspaper. Typing in the name 'William Wright' in the search box only brought news of the success of his short story-

...just like ghost story.

Frowning, Jazz began searching through the newspaper archives, before she found something that looked promising. It was a rather short article, but the headline leaped right out at her.

_Casper High Teen Takes Own Life, Driven by Stress from Bullying._

Scanning over the article, it seemed to be rather cut and paste- fourteen year old Abigail Richards, an incoming freshman to Casper High School, had been found hanged in her bedroom by her mother when she went to wake her up for school that morning. The note she had left behind described bullying at school, which had begun after she had pointed out that there were similarities between her own original work and the short story that one of the teachers had recently published. She didn't need to look any further to realize that they meant William Wright, although his name was mentioned nowhere in the article.

She took a wild guess that the local media believed her claims of plagiarism just as much as the student body did.

Leaning back in her chair, Jazz frowned, clicking out of her website. So a teacher vanishes into thin air, and a month later, Sam Manson is telling a ghost story about it. Well, it wasn't exactly rare that people made ghost stories out of real events- most ghost stories started out that way after all, an escalation of real life occurrences, something Jazz had always found more than a little distasteful. In and of itself, it wasn't anything to really arouse suspicion.

Christ, was she really starting to think those three had something to do with all of this? Hadn't she just dismissed them as suspects early this morning? Teenagers surely couldn't be behind a rash of mysterious disappearances, especially not if they spanned over three years. They all would have been at least fourteen back then, and Jazz found it hard to believe that fourteen year olds could really cause people to simply vanish into thin air, as her superiors had always described it.

Of course, that was _before _she had met them and discovered that one of them wasn't even human. What _was _the story behind that? There must have been some kind of story, she thought. In order to become a ghost, someone had to die first, right? A cold shudder ran up her spine then, wondering what it was that had caused a child of Phantom's age to die, and hoped that it hadn't been a violent death.

Somehow, however, she suspected that it was.

Bringing up the newspaper's website again, she began to search through it, trying to look up anything that might shed light on the mysterious 'Phantom'. She had doubts that this was his real last name, but somehow she doubted that she would get any answers if she just simply asked someone. Pouring through the newspaper archives turned out to be fruitless as well- she couldn't find anything that looked promising. Surely the death of a teenager would have been written about in the paper?

The lack of anything in the archives troubled her, to be honest. Rubbing her forehead, she debated calling her father about this- but somehow she didn't think that would go over very well. They had fought the last time she had seen him... and come to think of it, she still needed to apologize to him, didn't she? She'd been in the wrong in the argument after all, she had gotten a little too angry when her father suggested that he was a bit saddened by the fact that she wouldn't be following in the Fenton family footsteps.

She knew that he was proud of her anyways. Since the divorce, they were all the family that they had, after all.

Sighing, seeing that this was getting her nowhere, she closed out of her browser again. Glancing at the time, she noted that class was about over, and stood up, smiling at her students. "Alright, class is about over. Finish up any thoughts you have and then bring them up to my desk. Don't forget to put your names on them." She said. Some of the students grumbled, as if being offended at the implication that they would forget to put their names on their papers- but somehow, Jazz wouldn't be all that shocked if one or two of them forgot anyways.

When the bell rang indicating that first period was over, she let out a sigh of relief. At least that had gone over well- it wasn't until third period it seemed that she really had to worry.

That was when Team Phantom would come back to her classroom.

She wondered what _their_ essays would bring.

* * *

Third period.

Jazz didn't have to be a genius to figure out that the atmosphere changed whenever Team Phantom was in the room. Although The Trio appeared to be rather placid students, even if one of them was floating slightly off his chair, it seemed as if their mere presence was enough to create a hush over the room. Nobody spoke without being spoken to, and the hush fell as soon as the members straggled into the room, the last to arrive, as always. In her third period class, they were the only ones to talk, she took note.

They whispered about mostly inconsequential things, like any other teenager would. Tucker brought up going to the Nasty Burger after school, Phantom teased him about just wanting to go there to see Valerie, which he had furiously denied, in turn, accusing Phantom and Sam of being 'awfully close' lately. It was enough to cause Sam to turn bright red- and Phantom to turn bright green.

Ectoplasm, Jazz vaguely recalled, all but hearing her father in her head.

_Ghosts are usually manifestations of residual human emotions, infused with ectoplasm. In a way, it's like their blood. If they lose too much ectoplasm, they lose the ability to maintain a solid form, although just that isn't enough to destroy them._

She still couldn't believe it, and would have tried to deny it still if the truth wasn't right in front of her. What else could 'Phantom' be? He looked quite similar to a human, but the glowing aura, the blazing, unnatural color of his eyes, the cold touch, not to mention all the floating he was doing were proof enough. When he phased through something or blinked out of sight, it was just icing on the cake.

But it wasn't being a ghost that brought that sick feeling to her stomach when she dealt with him. It was something else, something that she couldn't quite put her finger on- and his other two friends shared it as well, although they were very human.

She was grateful when the bell rung, dismissing the class, but didn't let it show on her face, keeping herself composed this time. Sam and Tucker seemed to leave early this time, passing their papers on to Phantom, telling him that they were going to grab their lunches and meet him on the roof. Briefly, in the back of her head, she wondered if Phantom found it a bit lonely to watch his friends eat when he wasn't able to himself.

"Here you go, Miss Fenton!" Phantom told her cheerfully, the trace of the wrongness that she had seen earlier nowhere to be seen. Maybe it really had been her imagination- but somehow, she didn't think so.

"Thank you, Phantom." She said, taking the papers from him. "I noticed your friends call you Danny."

"They can." Phantom said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't really like to be called Daniel, but Danny's okay for really close friends. What about you Miss Fenton? Do you have any nicknames?"

It was a normal conversation, she thought, other than the fact that the one she was holding it with was hovering a few inches off the ground. "I do. My friends called me Jazz in school."

"Clever." Phantom remarked, grinning a bit. "Tucker told me I should apologize about earlier." He laughed, another green flush rising to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. "He said it was a little mean for a prank. You didn't hurt yourself or anything when you fell down, did you?"

"No, I'm fine." Jazz said, shaking her head. "It's alright. I'm still quite surprised though. I didn't think ghosts were real, I won't lie to you, Phantom."

"That's what I thought too, before well, yanno." He said, laughing a little. "My mom was always crazy about ghosts. I guess she was right and I was wrong."

"My father is the same way, to be honest." Jazz couldn't help but smile a little. He was speaking to her again like a normal teenager, and she wondered again if perhaps she had overblown her feeling from earlier. These kids were clearly a bit mixed up in the occult, but perhaps it had been her own paranoia imprinting false feelings on her.

"Really?" Phantom laughed a little. "How about that. Well, I'd better get going, Miss Fenton. Once again, sorry about earlier." He said, starting to float out the door.

"Do you ever just walk, Phantom?" She asked, unable to help herself.

"No way." He shook his head, giving her a broad grin. "Flying's one of the fun things about being a ghost. Like I would ever get around any other way. See ya." Giving her a mock salute, he phased backwards through the door, no doubt going to meet up with his friends.

Smiling a little, Jazz decided to turn back to their essays, glancing down at them. Tucker's was on top, and skimming over it, it seemed to be a love letter to technology- namely, to PDAs. Unable to help snorting a little, she shook her head, setting it back on the pile. Sam's was next, and hers was filled with a deep appreciation for badly dubbed Chinese kung fu movies, goth fashion, and the importance of being an activist, standing up for what you believe in.

Well, Jazz couldn't argue with that, she thought, putting it back with the others- and froze as she turned to look at Phantom's paper. Suddenly, it felt all too cold in the classroom, even though she knew that the room's temperature was perfectly adjusted to her liking.

It wasn't an essay.

She couldn't even read what was written on it, it all appeared to be nonsense and gibberish, scattered about the page without any cohesion. And as much as she couldn't understand it, she could feel the knot of unease in her stomach once again tightening.

Because in the dead center of the page was a line in plain English, that Jazz could understand _very _well.

_We like you better than the last agent._


	2. Such Nice Children

Author's Note: Here is Chapter Two! We are just starting to skirt the edge of the mystery here, and getting a bit of a closer look at things going on around here. Thanks for all of the positive feedback on the first chapter, you all are great. Keep them theories coming, it's really great to hear them! Also, if you are a tumblr person, if you got to **theamityparktrio **there, I have brought them into Tumblr RP land.

Also does anyone know how to best post links on FFN stories? I can't seem to work it out.

Danny Phantom is not mine.

* * *

The Trio

Chapter Two: Such Nice Children

_Although she hated to admit that she was suffering from any weakness, however, temporary, Maddie Fenton grudgingly accepted the wheelchair that was provided for her. It had been a tremendously hard birth, and she had spent nearly ten hours in labor alone, only to be informed partway through that her baby was upside down and bore a risk of being strangled in it's own umbilical cord. Although eventually the baby was born, she'd worried for a moment that it was dead after all, as it didn't cry at all- however, the doctor was quick to assure her that her baby son was just fine._

_A son._

_She hadn't even known that she was pregnant when she finalized the divorce with Jack. It had been a quick, bloodless process. Maddie didn't feel the same way for Jack anymore, and she didn't want it to run the risk of eventually devolving into something that she didn't want to make her little Jasmine suffer through. She'd stayed with her father, Maddie didn't want to pull her out of school and force her to leave her friends._

_It was shortly after that, that she got a call to deal with an Imprint that had been troubling a family in a town called Amity Park, and she had left right away to take care of it. Imprints were normally harmless, not even true ghosts- just fragments of a spirit endlessly repeating it's death, over and over again. They couldn't affect anyone around them, but it was rather nasty when one walked through you. Some people who were sensitive enough had even been known to pick up on their memories._

_This one had been running away from something, endlessly running at a set time of day. It didn't seem like the Imprint had run fast enough. It had been easily dealt with, and Maddie was readying to leave the city when she had started to experience pain. When she checked into Amity Park General Hospital, she had been informed that she was four months pregnant._

_Well, Jasmine had been a surprise too, now that she thought about it- it took her three months for Maddie to realize that she was pregnant. It was a trait in her family, she knew, her mother had been just as surprised when she had discovered she was pregnant with her and her sister._

_She had decided to stay in Amity Park for the time being. It was a rather nice town, after all, and the more she looked into it, the more that she thought that it wouldn't be a bad place to raise a son. She had called Jack, of course, divorced as they were, he still had the right to know he had a son- and she did still want to be friends with him. However, he was caught up in middle of a large project, and although he was delighted to hear about his son, he also regretfully informed Maddie that he was a bit afraid of leaving his big project in an unfinished state for too long- and Illinois was across the country, after all._

_She understood. Being ghost hunters and inventors alike, they sometimes worked with dangerous chemicals and equally dangerous equipment._

_Her son, Daniel, she had named him, had been taken by the doctors awhile after his birth for his normal medical check over. They were a bit concerned by his lack of crying- was something wrong with his lungs? He seemed to be breathing fine, at least to Maddie, but perhaps there was something that she had missed. Thus, Maddie found herself wheeling herself out to the viewing area for newborns who were awaiting their medical evaluations._

_She was a bit surprised to notice that she wasn't the only one there. Two men, around her own age, were waiting outside as well, one of them, a man with slicked back blonde hair, seemed to be making dumb faces at the babies. A typical, overenthusiastic new father, Maddie thought. Wheeling up, she could see one, a baby girl with striking violet eyes making shrieks of laughter and waving her arms and legs at the man. The other, an African American man with glasses and mustache, was simply glowing._

_"Your first?" Maddie asked each of them as she wheeled up, glancing between the two men. The blonde man instantly turned bright red, apparently not realizing that either of the other two were there._

_"Yes." He said quickly, coughing a bit into his hand. "Jeremy Manson."_

_"Maurice Foley." The other introduced himself, before glancing down at the wheelchair, noting that it was Maddie here, and not her husband. "Are you alright, miss?"_

_"Oh, yes!" Maddie laughed. "Hard birth. Just a little weak in my knees." She told them, pulling herself to her feet in order to get a better view. There he was, in between the two other newborn babies. Maurice's, she noticed, was a boy, who apparently was busy sucking on his own toes. Her own, Daniel, lay in between them, periodically peering from one to the other._

_It felt almost natural._

_"Three babies, all born on the same day." Maddie remarked, before smiling at the two men. "Perhaps they'll all become good friends? Ah, I'm Maddie... Fenton, by the way." She hesitated a little. She still hadn't decided if she was going to go back to her maiden name yet._

_"Oh, I hope so." Maurice said. "I don't want little Tucker to be half as awkward as I was when I was growing up. Are you new to town, Miss Fenton?" He asked her. "I don't really recall seeing you around before."_

_"Oh yes, I am." Maddie said, nodding her head. "Tucker, you said his name was? My boy's name is Daniel."_

_"Well, my little angel is named Samantha, after my grandmother." Jeremy said proudly, once again turning back to gaze at his baby girl. "Welcome to Amity Park, Miss Fenton. It's a great town with a great school system. I was born here myself, you know. Not a bad place to raise a kid."_

_If Maddie had been in less of an elated state of mind, she would have noticed a strange undercurrent to the man's words- but as it was, she missed it._

_She probably should have been paying closer attention._

_But by then, it was probably already too late._

_We like you better than the last agent._

* * *

Without thinking, Jazz cast the essay away from her, almost as if the very paper itself was toxic. Her heart pounded heavily in her chest, and she could feel a heavy presence in the air, her eyes still transfixed on the only words on the page that she could even read. So she was rather startled when a knock came on her door, body tensing up- but relaxed when he saw that the only person to come in was a middle aged, balding man. Another one of the teachers, she knew, the English teacher for the freshman and the seniors, she thought.

"Ah, sorry for startling you, Miss Fenton." The man blinked. "As the Casper High's other English teacher, I thought I would come give you a warm welcome." He said, before offering the woman what he carried- a modest fruit basket. "It's not much of a welcoming gift, I admit."

"Oh no, this is great!" Jazz said, breathing a sigh of relief as she accepted it from him. "I still haven't quite gotten used to town yet, so I haven't gotten into doing really regular grocery shopping at the moment." She said, smiling a little, setting the basket down on her desk.

"Ah yes, it always does take some time to adjust. I had a hard time getting around myself when I first moved here seven years ago. Edward Lancer, by the way." He told her, offering her his hand, which she shook. "I hear that you have The Trio in your class."

"Oh, yes." Jazz said, flinching a little when he said their name. "They sure know how to make an introduction on people."

"Ah, yes, the infamous new teacher hazing prank." Lancer rolled his eyes. "I was their favorite teacher back in freshman year... it's a bit of a mixed blessing." He admitted. "I'm sure you were very surprised. I don't think anyone in the staff meant to keep, ah, Mr. Phantom's condition from you."

"They just didn't expect me to believe it?" Jazz finished, quirking a brow. "No hard feelings, Mr. Lancer. Although I must ask, does Phantom always write in such... gibberish?"

"Ghost language, or something to that effect." Lancer said, casting a brief eye on the essay on Jazz's desk. "You can usually get Mr. Foley to translate it. It mostly effects his writing, but if he ever starts speaking the nonsense, he usually won't stop until someone points it out to him, so you should keep that in mind."

"How exactly is it that well..." Jazz hesitated, chewing on her lips as if trying to figure out the best way to phrase the question. "...Casper High came to have a ghost as a student?"

"You'll have to thank Miss Manson and Mr. Foley for that. Beyond that, we have no idea." Lancer shook his head. "Mr. Phantom was in my freshman class when _it _happened. The whole school was shaken up. Then one day, the two of them simply came back to class with his ghostly specter floating behind them and informed us that we should continue as usual. If I were you, though, Miss Fenton, I wouldn't go asking too many questions about this." He said, leveling a warning gaze at her.

Jazz knew that look, and she knew when to bite her tongue. There was a difference between a curious teacher and someone who had more than just a passing desire for more information, after all. She wanted to keep her cover intact- although, glancing back down at the paper on her desk, she wondered if it was already too late for that.

But how had they found out? Was it just a bluff? And if so, for what reason?

Was there even an agent sent here _before _her? Racking her brain, no matter how hard she thought, she simply couldn't recall her superiors mentioning something to that effect to her. Perhaps she just hadn't been on a need to know basis.

But if that much were true, The Trio apparently was- or at least, they had found out about it. And what business did they even have for getting mixed up with a federal investigator anyways? She couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, in some way, these kids were all mixed up in the mysterious, unreported disappearances that had apparently been plaguing this town for the last three years.

"Oh yes, I imagine it would be a sensitive subject." Jazz said quickly, nodding her head. "But thank you for the fruit basket, Mr. Lancer. It was thoughtful of you."

"It's no trouble at all." Lancer shook his head. "If you have any questions, you can always come find me. I'm the vice principal as well." He told her. "I used to be in your shoes once, a teacher in a new town. So many things to get sorted out. How's your moving coming, on that note?"

"I still have a lot to unpack." Jazz confessed. "But the apartment I bought is nice. Modest, but quite nice." She told him. "I'm sure once things calm down, and I get a bit more used to life in Amity Park, I can get everything sorted out. It does seem like a very nice town."

There was a brief hesitation in Lancer's eyes then, as if perhaps that he himself did not think the town was all that 'nice'. "Yes, quite." He said simply, giving her a quick nod. "Well then, Miss Fenton, the lunch bell beckons, and I'm on duty. I do hope that you enjoy your time teaching with us."

"Oh, I will!" Jazz smiled, watching him go. Once she was alone, she turned her gaze back on the essay on her desk, picking it up once again.

She was going to get to the bottom of this, that much was sure.

* * *

Other than her encounters with Team Phantom that day, Jazz's first day of being a teacher had been more or less normal. The only other student of immediate note was Valerie Gray, who had a class period with her for her forth period, and wrote a rather angry essay on how 'doing the right thing' was the most important thing to her. Anger problems indeed, she had thought, scanning over it.

She had spotted The Trio on her way to her car once the day was over, although most of the other students had since vacated the school, barring those who had extracurricular activities. She'd passed the classroom that they had holed themselves up in, the door ever so slightly ajar. Taking a quick glance in as she walked by, but not daring to hover near it, she had noticed that it was empty save for three chairs and a coffee table, although the floor was nearly covered in newspapers. There was a piece of paper taped to the outside of the door that read simply 'Team Phantom'.

They had their own classroom at the school, or so it seemed. For being mere troublemakers, it sure seemed like these three had any number of special privileges. Over the course of the day, she'd found out that Sam and Tucker were allowed to skip in the lunch line- and if they felt like it, skip out of school entirely to grab lunch. They hadn't shown up to their fifth period, she'd heard, but nobody seemed inclined to punish them for it.

She'd spotted The Trio in their own classroom- a club room, of some kind, perhaps? They were glancing over a newspaper, whispering something to each other in a language that she couldn't quite make out- more of this ghost language that Mr. Lancer had spoken of, perhaps?

She didn't stick around long enough to find out, not after that essay. She somehow didn't want to know what would happen if the Trio decided that they didn't like her anymore.

She paused outside the front door of her apartment, frowning as she glanced down the hallway, and heaved another sigh.

She was sitting out here again, huh?

Jazz hadn't been lying to Mr. Lancer- her apartment was very nice, if currently in a state of being critically unfurnished. It was just that she didn't care all that much for her neighbors. At least, not the adults. Their daughter seemed very nice- and that was why Jazz was so worried about it.

"Hey there." She spoke up, casting the girl a small smile. She glanced up, flinching a little at first, as if by instinct- but when she saw who it was, a small smile appeared on her face. "Are your parents fighting again?"

"Yeah." The little girl said, dark green eyes meeting Jazz's. Her black hair was pulled into two childish pigtails, and she wore a worn pair of overalls. Most noticeable, however, was the small oxygen tank that sat next to her, which judging from the fact that she was hooked up to it, Jazz guessed she needed to breathe properly. She didn't look like she could be more than six or seven years old. "Did you have a good first day at school, Miss Fenton?"

"I did." Jazz said softly, smiling lightly at her. She tried to ignore her parents, who she could already hear screaming at each other from inside. "How was your day, Roxy?"

"It was okay." The little girl, Roxanne Lukeson, as she had learned her name was said- and then frowned a little. "Or it was. Until mom started yelling at daddy again."

"I'm sorry, honey." Jazz said, frowning a little. This was exactly the kind of thing her mother had been hoping to avoid when she divorced her father- avoiding falling into a relationship without any love or even any friendship, and forcing their daughter to listen to it all. She couldn't help but feel an immense amount of sympathy for the little girl, and had made up her mind to do something about it as soon as she could. She had been a little surprised when she had learned that afternoon that Roxy's mother was the school lunch lady, and it was all she could do to force herself from confronting the woman about it, right then and there.

If she got in touch with one of her superiors, surely one of them would be able to connect her to Child Services, she thought. Her boss was a good man, although a bit stern, she doubted he would overlook any incident, no matter if it wasn't what he was looking for. Roxy didn't need to be in this kind of environment, especially not when Jazz gathered that the main reason for the breakdown of her family was the young girl's medical bills, which were rapidly putting a drain on the family's finances.

"Oh, right. Would you like some fruit?" Jazz asked, holding up the fruit basket. "I got a ton from a colleague as a welcoming present."

"Do you have any strawberries?" The little girl asked, eyes glittering. "I love strawberries. Sometimes my friend brings me some. He brought me a strawberry shortcake the other day!"

The short time Jazz had been here, she had already gathered that Roxy had an imaginary friend. Not uncommon for a girl he age, but Jazz was worried she was using it as a bit of escapism. That in itself wasn't too much to worry about- but it could potentially evolve into something worrisome. Still, she smiled, handing Roxy a handful of strawberries. "Did he now? How kind of him."

"Yup!" Roxy nodded her head, happily taking the strawberries, biting right into one. "He said that mom and daddy will stop fighting soon too. And that I'll get to go someplace nice soon."

"Oh, is that so?" Jazz asked, blinking a little, not sure if she should be worried about this or not just yet. "Well, I hope it's a very nice place then. Just remember to not stray too far from your home on your own, okay? You could get lost."

"Okay Miss Fenton!" Roxy nodded her head. "Thank you for the strawberries." She said. Jazz smiled at her, ruffling her hair a bit, before she headed into her apartment. Kids were nice- maybe she should think about having them at some point. Well, of course, she would have to get married first in order to do that, she thought, snorting a little. She never did have a whole lot of luck dating.

Yawning a little, she decided to see if she could get some unpacking done before her stomach called her to go to dinner. She might as well get it done today, before she had to spend long hours of the night grading papers. Come to think of it, a teacher _probably_ wasn't the best cover identity in the world for her superiors to pick, and she had to wonder why they had chosen it.

Unless, of course, they knew about The Trio.

* * *

The time that Phantom hated the most was being apart from Sam and Tucker. It was always like a piece of him was missing when they were apart, and he couldn't wait until he could see them again. But they still had to go home at night, and they couldn't always spend the night at each other's houses. They couldn't put a burden on their parents!

Especially Sam's poor parents. They had never been the same, not after the car accident three years ago. They rarely left the house anymore.

Well, his own mother was the same way lately.

"Mom!" Phantom called out, floating through the front door. "I'm home!" He called out, glancing around as he looked about. He grinned as he spotted his mother on the couch. "Hey, I'm going to be hanging out with Sam and Tucker for awhile late tonight, is that okay? We're going to play another game!" He grinned at her, tossing his schoolbag off to one side.

There was an eerie silence in the room, but Phantom continued as if someone had already spoken to him. "Oh that's great! Anyways, we got a new English teacher at school today! She's a Fenton too, like you! Well, anyways, I think I like her. She looks a bit like you mom!" Phantom grinned, crossing his legs and turning upside down, floating around in the air. "I think she's going to be our new favorite teacher! She teaches our homeroom too. You know, after we had to judge Mr. Wright and all." He laughed.

"Huh, what's that?" Phantom asked, cupping a hand to his ear. "Oh yeah! I'll bring you back some food if you want, mom! I know you're so busy lately that you don't have any time to cook. What did you want tonight? Chinese, Italian? French maybe, if you're feeling really fancy?" He asked, and then floated there, waiting for an answer. "Oh, okay! I can get something from the barbeque place. You like their ribs, right?"

"Great, I'll go pick some up right now!" He laughed a little. "Don't worry mom, I'll have plenty of time to do that and do my homework before I go hang with Sam and Tucker later. Promise." He said, leaning down a little to kiss her on the cheek, before floating off. "I'll get you that coleslaw you like too. Keep up the good work, mom, I'm sure business will pick up soon!" He told her, waving at the woman before floating right back out the door.

He didn't see why nobody came to visit them at home anymore. His mother was so lonely after all, now that she couldn't leave the house! Sure the place needed a bit of cleaning up, Phantom was rather helpless in that matter after all, but it wasn't that bad! He wasn't rich like Sam, so he couldn't afford to hire a maid. Well, maybe if his mom's inventor business picked up, they could get some more cash in!

That said, he was looking forward to seeing Sam and Tucker tonight. It had been awhile since they had been able to get together and give a good chase- it had been a whole month! While it was good to see the town at peace, he was already itching to get back to work again.

Tonight would be such fun!

* * *

The old woman ran, ran as fast as her legs could carry her, suddenly wishing that she had a bit of healthier diet. Her breath came out in huffs and puffs, and she scurried up the steps to the nearest house, beating on the front door. "Someone please!" She called out, screaming as loudly as she could. "Please help me!" She called, frantically continuing her pounding, until she froze, eyes glancing down towards the end of the street.

"N-no, please don't!" The woman called out again, taking off down the steps and running as fast as she could go back down the street. The ones following behind her walked at a slow pace, as if they weren't even the least bit concerned about the chance of losing her- there were only two of them here, the other one must have gone after her husband. She told him, she told him they should have stopped while they were ahead. She told him that something about this town was wrong.

Why wouldn't he listen to her? He didn't even seem to know that horrid thing was hanging around his own daughter! What imaginary friend!?

She was just trying to make ends meet! What was so wrong with that? There was a market for it, what was so wrong with taking advantage of it? After all, it was so very good, and there was always so much of it going around! Too much of it, in fact. Something had to be done about that.

Hurrying down the street, her breath came out even harder now, her lungs starting to burn. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up! Why wasn't anyone answering her cries, why was nobody coming to save her from- from these things, these monsters?!

Reaching another house, she pounded on the door again, her fists red and bleeding from repeated attempts to get help. "Please!" She called out again, begging. "Please I don't want to die!"

There was a hand on her shoulder then, and she froze up, her heart pounding in her chest. Her graying hair stuck to her face, sweat trickling down her cheeks. Slowly, very slowly, she turned her head back to see who it was, although she already knew the answer. Although they had just been very far down the street the last time she had looked back at them, they had caught up to her, before she had even noticed.

Violet and blue eyes stared down at her, their pupils an unnatural shape, distorted, rectangular. They were the only thing she could see in this darkness, all of the street lights having been turned off, and the moon and stars themselves hidden behind the clouds. "Oh please, no." She begged, falling down on her knees. "Please, no I have a daughter, _please_." She shook her head.

"You only use her as an excuse to escape judgement." Sam frowned, not becoming anymore enamored of the woman. Well, that said, she hadn't liked her to begin with. Every time she came to lunch, this pesky woman whined at her, trying to force meat on her. 'Meat is good for you, helps you grow!', she always claimed, and she couldn't stand it one bit.

How nice it was that she had turned out to be evil.

"I'm disappointed, Mrs. Lukeson." Tucker shook his head, tightening his grasp on her shoulder. "I thought we had something of an understanding, you and I. We were supposed to be meat buddies, and you betrayed me. I expected better from a fellow meat lover." He frowned.

"But it's delicious!" Mrs. Lukeson protested, her eyes wide as she stared at the two teens before her. She had heard the whispers, the rumors about them, about The Trio, but she'd never thought them to be true. They were just teenagers after all, even if one was annoying, and had it in her head that people didn't need meat. Of course they needed meat! It was natural for humans to eat meat!

And she did so love her meat, all kinds of meat. And with Roxy's growing medical bills, it seemed to be the perfect way to garner a little extra income, running a meat selling business on the side. What could possibly have been wrong with it?

There were so many humans after all! What was so wrong if a few of them went missing?

"It's human." Sam said, glowering down at the old woman. "Of course it's wrong. And to think you even had the nerve to run away from your trial." She sighed, shaking her head. "Why does everyone run, Tucker? I don't understand it. I've always thought our methods were plenty fair."

"I don't know, Sam." Tucker frowned, shrugging his shoulders. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a device which Mrs. Lukeson quickly realized must have been a tazer. Before she could do anything else, the electric current ran through her body, knocking her out cold. After that, the two teens scooped her up, both needing to carry her to support her wait. "She's heavier than I thought she'd be. Do you think Danny's fine with her husband?"

"You know how strong Danny's gotten." Sam told him, grunting a little as they carried her down the steps. Glancing up, she could see the curtain in the window above them fluttering shut in a hurry, and cast a cold smile up towards it, before she turned her attention back towards Tucker.

"Don't remind me." Tucker grunted. "You have your magic book, Danny has his ghost powers, and what do I have?"

"A tricked out PDA and a powerful tazer?" Sam offered. "I hope you reduced the charge this time. The last time you used it, you killed the poor guy before we got a chance to judge him! That's not any fun if we do it that way, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, don't remind me." He grumbled. "I was just as disappointed, I was really looking forward to that one too. Speaking of evil, Sam, how's your personal investigation going?"

"Oh, wonderfully!" Sam smiled. "I can't wait to bring her down a few pegs myself. She thinks she wields such power- well, I'll teach her that's simply her own delusion." She glanced over at Tucker. "What do you think of the new English teacher? Danny seems to think she's nice, but I don't know. She seems too peppy to me."

"I like her." Tucker said, shrugging his shoulders. "I don't see peppiness as being a bad thing, anyways. I trust Danny's instincts you know, he has a good sense of good and evil. Besides, we can't exactly hold her secret against her- she's just doing her job. If she gets too close, we'll just deal with her like the last one, right? Or maybe we'll keep her here, in the town forever. I didn't like the last one, but I do like Miss Fenton."

"Don't you think it's weird that she's a Fenton too?" Sam asked, groaning a little as she shifted Mrs. Lukeson a little to better hold her. "Didn't Mrs. Fenton mention something about having a daughter that she left with her husband?"

"Yeah, but what are the odds of that?" Tucker shrugged his shoulders. "Anyways, it's not like we can ask her. You know she only talks to Danny these days. I don't know Sam, I don't want to say bad things about my friend's parents, but I think that's a little rude."

"Oh yeah, speaking of parents, I met your mother in the supermarket today." Sam recalled. "She gave me the card of someone who gives cooking lessons, and said I should look into it now that my parents have been incapacitated for awhile. Do you think it's worth looking into? I mean, come on, I'm a vegetarian, my food is mostly healthy by default."

"She's just worried about you Sam. She means well." Tucker said. "She tried to teach me to cook, but she gave up on it when we had to call the biohazard team in after I tried to make scrambled eggs."

"I thought we agreed that we would never bring up the Scrambled Eggs Incident again." Tucker frowned, before a look of relief appeared on his face. "Oh good, finally, we made it. She sure made some distance for a fat lady." He said, glancing up at the apartment complex just beyond them.

"Took you guys long enough." Phantom noted, floating over to them. "I caught her husband a long time ago."

"Sorry we don't all have super strength, Danny." Sam snipped. "You want to take her or what?"

"Yeah, okay." Phantom said, easily scooping up the large woman and throwing her over his shoulder. "Come on, I've already got Mr. Lukeson bound and gagged. Roxy's still sleeping in her room. She's going to be so happy when she learns that she doesn't have to put up with these two windbags anymore!"

"For someone who complained to me that he doesn't understand how babies work, you have a surprising knack for children." Sam observed, following behind him.

"Babies, aren't children, they're tiny weird drooling things." Phantom huffed, floating towards the elevator and waited for the other two to join him. They made their way to the Lukeson apartment, before he paused in front of the door right next to theirs. "Oh yeah, fun fact I found out while I was investigating things here. Miss Fenton lives right here." He told them, dropping his voice to a whisper.

"Really?" Tucker laughed a little. "What are the odds? Should we pay her a little late night visit?"

"I'm still not sure I like her." Sam frowned.

"I don't think she's done anything to earn that yet. At least, It hasn't made any complaints yet, so I assume everything's just fine." Phantom shrugged, floating on past Jazz's front door. He phased through, and then opened it up for Sam and Tucker, who followed him inside, closing it behind them. There, already waiting, was Mrs. Lukeson's husband, who stared at the with wide eyes, struggling against his bonds again, trying to scream through his gag.

"Now now, this is a silent trial." Sam lectured him, sending him a glower which quickly shut him up. She helped Phantom place the Lunch Lady in the chair next to him, and quickly tied her up and gagged her as well, before giving her a few good slaps to rouse her to awareness.

There was a low groan as the woman's eyes flickered open- and then quickly widen in horror, almost immediately beginning to struggle against her bonds.

"There's no escape, you know." Phantom noted, floating above her, one leg crossed over another, his elbow propped up on one, chin resting in his hands. "All you can do is sit quietly and accept the judgement that we've decided for you. Besides, your daughter is asleep in the next room! You wouldn't want to wake her, would you?"

"You shouldn't pretend that you've been worrying about her this whole time, you know." Sam noted. "But she'll be just fine! I've already contacted Child Services, and I'm sure you'll be happy to know that there's a wonderful family out in Chicago that's been looking for a special needs child to take care of! They're such lovely people, and I'm sure they'll love Roxy in a way that you never bothered to."

"Right, right." Tucker nodded his head, like the others, keeping his voice to a whisper. "But that's right, let's begin the trial. Lucy and Boyce Lukeson, the crime you have been charged with is the murder of two people."

"The crime you have been charged with is also the skinning and cutting up of their corpses." Sam said, locking eyes with them. The atmosphere in the room slowly changed, growing heavy and the air itself was filled with tension- and anger. "And then of all things, selling the meat. Oh, and you can be sure, we will call them to us, those who bought from you. It has already sent out the invitations."

"What say ye, to these charges, judge?" Phantom asked, glancing over towards Tucker.

"Guilty, on both counts." Tucker said.

"What say ye, jury?" Phantom asked, turning to look at Sam.

"Guilty." Sam echoed Tucker, nodding her head. "What say ye, o executioner?"

With a smirk that told the both of them that they were clearly doomed, Phantom turned to face the couple. "Guilty."

* * *

Jazz was awoken to a knock on her front door, realizing glumly that she hadn't made it back to her bed that night after she had spent several hours trying to unpack everything she owned over the course of a single evening. Trying to make herself presentable, she got off the couch and tiredly headed over towards the front door. A brief glance down at her watch told her that it was only six in the morning, and while she did need to get up around now to get ready to head over to school, she didn't know who could be knocking on her door at this hour.

"Hello?" Jazz asked, opening the door. She blinked slowly, an unfamiliar woman standing before her, confused as to what was going on. At least, until she looked down, and saw Roxy standing in front of the woman, pulling her oxygen tank behind her. The woman she was with was carrying a suitcase, she noted now. "Roxy? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah!" She said, nodding her head. "I'm going to go with this lady now, Miss Fenton. She came here from Child Services to collect me." She told her.

"Oh." Jazz blinked, looking again at the woman, who gave her a sharp nod. So someone else must have noticed what was going on, and had given them a heads up. That was a relief, she thought. Surely any place other than here would be better for Roxy. "That's great, Roxy. What about your parents?"

"They're going on a long trip." Roxy said, frowning a little. "They didn't even say goodbye. But, I came to say goodbye to you Miss Fenton! I'm only sorry we couldn't be friends longer. But I'm gonna be okay now, okay? You always looked worried about me."

They didn't even...? A cold shiver ran through Jazz then, although she didn't let it show on her face. "I see. Well, that's wonderful news, Roxy." She said, rubbing her head. "I hope you can find new friends, wherever you're going."

"Yeah." Roxy nodded her head. "My friend says he can't come with me." She told her, shaking her head. "He can't leave The Town. But he says I'll be fine from now on."

Well, if the problem was no longer a problem, then she would no longer have a need for an imaginary friend to help her deal with it, would she? Smiling still, Jazz nodded her head. "You're a very nice girl. I'm sure everyone will be fighting to become friends with you."

"I think so too! Bye bye, Miss Fenton!" Roxy said, waving a hand to her. It wasn't until she was down the elevator, that Jazz stepped out of her apartment, staring down towards the parking lot below. The woman helped Roxy into the back of a car, before getting into it herself. She made herself hold back until the car was gone, before she turned to the apartment that was next door to her.

Glancing around, briefly casting an eye upwards to see if there were any security cameras around, and finding none, she ducked back inside her room for a moment. Grabbing some gloves, she quickly put them on, hastily tying up her hair as well. It only took her a minute to jimmy open the lock to the Lukeson's apartment, and she slipped inside, shutting the door behind her.

In the middle of the floor, set right in the living room, were two chairs, side by side to each other. Jazz frowned, creeping up to them and taking a look. The way they were placed seemed to be unnatural- as well as the fact that there were scraps of white cloth tied around the front legs and the back of the chairs. Had someone been held hostage here?

A sense of dread washed over Jazz then, and suddenly, she felt the temperature in the room drop. It was the feeling of being watched, she quickly realized this, and her eyes darted around, trying to find out who it was that had set their gaze upon her- but found no one. Shivering a little in the cold, she felt her heart pound in her chest as she came to a realization.

Last night, two more people had vanished from Amity Park. It had happened right next to her, and she hadn't even noticed it.

But why? Not only Roxy, but also the woman from Child Services had acted as if nothing had even happened. Why? Surely if something had happened here- and it seemed it had, then there would have been question for her, as her next door neighbor, but there was nothing.

Nobody ever reported the missing in Amity Park. They had noticed Mr. Wright's case because the publishers that had been interested in signing book deals with him suddenly couldn't get into contact with him anymore.

When Jazz came here, the only question on her mind had been as to who was behind the disappearances.

Now she realized that she should have also questioned the why- why did no one report them? Why did nobody talk about them? Everyone she had met spoke about Mr. Wright as if he had just gotten up and left one day- but she didn't think that was true. If it was, then she wouldn't have been here, after all. Something had happened to him, something that she had the sudden, horrifying realization that everyone in town knew about, but didn't dare speak about.

And somehow, in some way, this was all connected to The Trio.

Her body froze then, and for a moment, a brief moment, Jazz was unable to move. A deep shiver ran down her spine, and but she forced herself to keep her eyes open.

Then she blinked and suddenly- putting a hand to her head, she could feel it throbbing a little as she glanced around, looking about curiously. This wasn't her apartment, was it? She frowned, suddenly unable to figure out or even remember why she was in here. Looking around, she saw nothing out of the ordinary about this apartment- it was smaller than her own, a small kitchen table with three wooden chairs crammed in the tiny space between the kitchen and the living room.

Frowning, for a moment, Jazz felt as if she was on the verge of remembering something when she looked at the chairs- and then quickly recalled why she had come in here.

And wished she hadn't.

Slowly backing out of the room, Jazz quickly made for the door, hurrying back to her own apartment, placing a hand over her pounding heart. Glancing over at her clock, she noticed with slight alarm that more time passed than she had even realized, and it was now six thirty.

She was missing time.

And for a moment, a brief moment, she had completely forgotten what she was doing, and why she had been in the Lukeson's apartment. What's more, in that span of time, someone had come back and erased all the evidence that anything out of the ordinary had happened there.

"Oh God, what have I gotten myself into?" Jazz said, feeling her hands shake. She almost yelped when her cell phone rang, scrambling to pull it out of her pants pockets, and barely managed to get a firm grasp on it before it stopped ringing, just catching it on the last one. Trying to steady her voice, she relaxed immensely when she heard the voice on the other end of the line, slumping down on her couch.

"Jazz honey!" Her father's voice came out from the other end of the phone. "So, how's your new assignment~?"

"It's... interesting." Jazz lied, not sure that she wanted her father to know just yet exactly what was going on. The last thing she wanted him to do was to learn that there was a ghost here, and come in with guns blazing, so to speak. Besides, as much as she would really like someone to vent to now- this was, technically, a confidential matter. "You know I can't discuss it with you though, right?"

"I know, I know." Jack pouted. "Still, is it wrong for a father to be worried about his daughter?"

"No, it's not." Jazz said, smiling a little. "Oh right, while I still have you dad, I wanted to apologize for how I treated you before I left. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know that you're proud of me, even if I didn't become a ghost hunter like you and mom."

"Ah, don't worry about it honey. I'm your father, I know that much." Jack said. "So, can you at least tell me where they've sent you?" He asked. "I might come by and pay you a visit, make sure you're doing okay!"

"Dad, I'm twenty four years old now. I can survive perfectly fine on my own, and I have been since college." Jazz pouted. "But if you must know, it's a little town called Amity Park. It's in Illinois." She blinked then, frowning. "Dad? Are you there?" She asked. "I didn't lose you, did I?"

"Jazz." Her father's voice came over the phone then, more stern and commanding than she had ever heard in her entire life. But it was his next words that made her freeze.

"You need to get out of there _now_."


	3. There is Nothing You Need to Recall

Author's Note: Chapter Three is finally here! This is a good story, I like this story. I hope that this chapter was worth the wait! I'm pretty pleased with it, at least. We get a couple of small answers but the questions still continue to increase. Just the way I like it! Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed this so far!

Danny Phantom does not belong to me.

* * *

**The Trio**

Chapter Three: There Is Nothing You Need To Recall

* * *

"You need to get out of there _now_."

Jazz's breath caught in her throat, a cold chill suddenly running down her spine. In her entire life, she had never heard her father talk like this, not even once. She swallowed, not realizing that she was gripping her phone so tightly that her knuckles were turning white. "Dad? What do you mean by that?" She slowly asked him, hearing her heart start to pound in her chest.

Her father was _serious_- and he almost never was serious!

"That whole damn city is cursed, Jazz. You need to leave there while it still lets you." Jack told her over the phone, his voice deadly serious, not a hint of his usual almost carefree personality showing through. "That's where your mother and your-"

It took Jazz a minute to realize that the line had gone dead. The sound of the dropped call echoed in her ear, and it took her a few moments before she managed to force herself into motion, quickly redialing her father. What was that about her mother anyways? After her parents divorced, Jazz never actually saw her again, although she had sent her presents on her birthday and for Christmas every year- or she _had_, up until three years ago. Then the presents stopped, without much of an explanation.

There had been a return address on all of the packages, and Jazz recalled sending her mother letters in the first few years, but now, strangely enough, she couldn't recall where they had been sent from, and where she had been sending her letters to. No matter how deeply she dug into her memories, she just couldn't recall that information, only knowing that the address hadn't changed up until the point that they suddenly stopped coming. She remembered that she had stopped sending letters after the first two years, when she realized that her mother wasn't ever going to send anything back to her- she wondered if she had even been _reading _them.

_"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

Jazz's heart dropped in her chest as she heard the computerized voice inform her of this, and she frantically hung up, trying to dial her father again.

_"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

"No, that can't be right!" Jazz shouted into the phone, bringing up her father's number in the contacts list. Maybe in her panic, she had dialed the wrong number, twice.

_"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

Jazz stumbled back a step, her blue eyes wide as she stared down at the phone in her hands. Her father had been about to tell her something very important, she knew that much, and he had been cut off suddenly. And now she couldn't connect with him? Something about this was wrong, she didn't need her experience working for the FBI to tell her that much. The timing of this was too unnatural, it was almost as if something didn't want her to talk to her father about what he knew about Amity Park.

Glancing around the room, Jazz suddenly wondered if she was actually alone. She recalled Phantom's ability to turn invisible, suddenly growing uneasy, as if she felt eyes watching her that she knew weren't really there. She took in and let out a deep breath, trying to steady herself, trying to keep herself from panicking. She was a federal agent, not a helpless little girl in a horror movie- she could do this, this was her job after all. She was sure that even this had a rational explanation, sure that everything strange in this town did.

Other than Phantom, that is. That was one that she couldn't explain, and she could only imagine that perhaps after all these years, her father had been right. But at the same time, for a ghost Phantom seemed much too strange, much too solid, too real. From what her father had told her about ghosts, it seemed that most of them were of an ephemeral sort, physically at least, and that they could only manipulate the human world through some kind of telekinesis. This didn't seem to be the case for Phantom, who although he never stopped floating, seemed to be able to interact with people and objects as if he were still living.

But Jazz wasn't going to fool herself into thinking Phantom's ability to float and turn invisible were simply her imagination. She had seen him pass through solid objects as well, and those haunting glowing green eyes and that aura that surrounded his body... those weren't illusions. She knew that much. Phantom had to be some kind of supernatural entity, if not a ghost, then something else like, something similar. Suddenly she wished she had paid more attention to her father's ramblings, and thinking of him, she tried calling him one last time.

_"The number you have dialed is no longer in service."_

Jazz's eyes narrowed, and this time she fought back her fear. She wasn't going to give into this, into these cheap scare tactics. She was a federal agent, and she had been given a very important job- one that she would not give up on so easily. She didn't really understand what her father meant by the town being cursed- aside from Team Phantom, everyone she had met so far in Amity Park seemed to be perfectly pleasant. Taking in a deep breath, Jazz nodded to herself, steeling her nerves once again. She _wasn't_ going to be beaten so easily and she wouldn't run away from this. She would _never _get another job again if she did.

Recalling that she had to get ready to school, Jazz hurried to get to task, taking a quick shower and grabbing a quick breakfast, before she grabbed her briefcase and keys, and headed out the door. She paused for a moment, peering once more into the apartment that was next to her, which had been occupied by the Lukesons until just yesterday night.

And her blood ran cold.

Because in the span of twenty minutes or so, everything in the apartment had vanished, leaving no traces behind. She quickly shut the door to the now empty apartment, forcing back the tide of fear once again. There was clearly something going on in Amity Park, and she was determined to get to the bottom of this matter. If someone was trying to scare her away from the truth, well then, she would just show them that Jazz Fenton didn't scare so easily.

* * *

"This is not good." Jack Fenton said, a bolt of fear running through him the moment the call dropped. He kept trying to call Jazz's phone over and over again, but ever single time, he got a message informing him that the number he was dialing was no longer in service. "No, no, no, this can't be happening. Not again." Jack said, scrambling to his feet, tearing through his house, trying to find what he was looking for. Up to the attic he went, letting down the attic stairs with a great clatter, scrambling up them with surprising speed for a man of his size.

He began tearing through boxes once up there, never ceasing to try and call his daughter back. Still nothing, no attempt got through, and after awhile, it was as if the computerized voice was starting to mock him. Throwing the phone aside in frustration, Jack paused to take a deep breath, to attempt to get a grip on himself. Tearing around in the attic mindlessly wasn't going to get him anywhere, he needed to remember where he had put that box, that box that contained everything that he knew on Amity Park, everything he had on that god forsaken place that his ex-wife had gone off to do a job and had never returned from.

Amity Park had never let her leave.

If anything, Jazz's short phone call at least gave Jack some credence to his theory that the town moved. Back when Maddie had been invited there to exterminate some pesky imprints, she had gotten a letter that informed her that Amity Park was located in Kansas. Now, apparently, it was somewhere in Illinois. It could simply be another town with the same name, anyone else would reason, but Jack Fenton knew better. He was no fool, and he knew that his daughter was now living in the same city that might have very well caused his ex-wife to lose her life.

Finally, Jack found what he was looking for, and he tore open the box. Digging through the papers inside of it, years of accumulated research, he came at least upon a single photo. It had been the only thing that his ex-wife had ever sent him, after she called him to tell him that he had a son. After that, he was never able to get into contact with her via the phone again, much like he wasn't able to get into contact with Jazz now.

The single letter had been sent four years ago, but the picture was much older than that. It was heartwarming, at least on the surface. Maddie sat in her teal jumpsuit, a little boy of about four years of age sitting perched in her lap. He had shaggy black hair, and baby blue eyes, and he wore an oversized T-shirt that proudly had the NASA logo printed on it. They were both smiling happily at each other, and it would have been a very innocent photograph- until you turned it over.

Scrawled in furious hand, as if she didn't have much time, was his ex-wife's handwriting. He hadn't seen it for years, but he would recognize it anywhere. The photograph was old, but the writing had been new when she had sent it.

_I should have never stayed in this city. I should have never come to this city. I should have never given birth to this child. This child shouldn't have been born this child shouldn't have been born this child shouldn't have been born what did I do, Jack? What have I been raising?_

_Tell Jazz I love her._

_I should have never given birth to this boy._

That was the last contact he had ever gotten from his wife. After that, the presents to Jazz had stopped coming entirely. The photograph and the letter had been slipped inside of one of Jazz's presents, and Jack had silently removed it before he had let his daughter open it. He turned the photograph back over, staring hard into the eyes of the innocent little four year old boy, silently trying to question the son he never knew. He hadn't even known that Maddie had been pregnant when he had divorced her- if he had known that much, he would have had them stay together until the baby was at least old enough to walk.

They had never hated each other, in all honesty, but at some point in their relationship, Maddie had realized that it just wouldn't work out. So confessed this to Jack, and although he was still very much in love with her, he had agreed that it would be for the best if they parted. Maddie was worried that one day she might lose any good feelings for Jack altogether, and she didn't want that to ever effect their daughter. The divorce was bloodless, and Maddie had handed Jazz over to Jack, with promises that she would come to see her laugher often. She wasn't going to be staying in the same town as them any longer, but she didn't want to uproot Jazz's entire life.

Then she had taken the assignment in Amity Park, and neither of them had ever seen her again. When Maddie had called him to tell him that he had a son, he was just as surprised as she was- but also more than happy to have Maddie raise the child herself, knowing that she was the sort of women who loved children, and that it had been a great sacrifice on her part to give up Jazz. He didn't want to take another child away from her, and he had been happy for her- and Maddie had been happy as well.

Maddie was happy in this photograph, and Jack couldn't help but wonder what had changed in between the time it was taken, and the time she had sent it to him, hidden inside a package. She looked like she loved her son very much here, but on the back of the photograph... there was a different story spelled out.

At that time, Jack had already become aware that Amity Park was not a natural city, that it was cursed. But sometimes it slipped in and out of his memory, and there were times that he could do nothing about the matter. When he did remember Amity Park though, and the plight of his ex-wife, who he still very much loved, Jack did everything in his power to gather information. Eventually, Amity Park had stopped slipping out of his memories altogether. He had told Jazz a few times, about how his mother had moved to a town called Amity Park, but judging from her voice over the phone, it sounded as if she had no recollection of this.

Jack was sure of one thing, he thought, as he stared deeply into the eyes of the little boy in the photograph. The deeper he stared, the less innocence there seemed to be in them, as if the very eyes themselves would warp into something other, something not quite right, though not entirely evil.

The one thing that Jack Fenton was sure of was that his wife had been called to Amity Park, and that she had been called there for a reason. For whatever reason, Amity Park needed Maddie, and Jack had a strong suspicion that this reason was to give birth to this boy, which she had named Daniel.

Amity Park had _wanted _Maddie to give birth to a child there.

But _why_?

* * *

"Oh, if I'm not mistaken, you're the new teacher, correct?"

Jazz glanced up from her papers, wondering who it was that was talking to her. It wasn't a voice that she had heard before, but from the looks of the woman before her, she assumed that she was another member of the staff. She appeared to be somewhere in her late thirties, and had bright red hair, in a rather _unusual _style, and wore a red skirt suit with a black tie. She could make out green eyes underneath her sunglasses, although they weren't nearly so bright as Phantom's, a far more mundane color.

"Yes. I don't believe we've met." Jazz said, smiling a little as she offered the woman her hand. "I'm Jasmine Fenton, I teach English here, as of yesterday." She said.

"Oh yes, so I've heard." The woman said, taking Jazz's hand in her own, giving it a shake. She had a very strong grip, Jazz noted, as she let go of her hand. "I'm Penelope Spectra, the student therapist here. I heard that you have the Trio in your class." She noted, shaking her head, her body language expressing pity, but her eyes saying nothing of the sort. Rather she seemed to be amused by this turn of events, as if she was wondering how long this rookie was going to last with them. "They're _quite _the group of children, if I do say so myself. Did Phantom give you the usual greeting?"

"If by that you mean by scaring the pants off of me, then yes." Jazz told her, nodding her head. "That he did. From the sound of it, it seems as if you were on the receiving end of one as well."

"Ugh, yes." Spectra rolled her eyes. "I was. It's something I would care to forget. I still can't believe that one of the students I'm supposed to be in charge of is a _ghost_. How exactly are you expected to provide a ghost with therapy? You've got your work cut out for you, Miss Fenton, especially with that awful goth girl. She never misses a chance to try and mouth off at me."

"You mean Sam?" Jazz asked, blinking a little. So it would seem that other teachers and staff did have trouble with the Trio- that was what she had heard, but she hadn't talked to anyone first hand that did yet though. "I see. I'll be sure to keep that in mind, although I haven't had that problem yet." She paused for a second, her question lingering on the tip of her tongue before she finally decided to ask it. "They seem to have their own classroom here, I can't help but notice."

"Lancer's work." Spectra told her, shaking her head. "He likes to spoil them so that they don't turn around and act like they do to everyone else around here. Who knows what they do in there aside from study newspapers? Nobody else is allowed in, not even the janitor, and they get pretty upset when they suspect someone else has been inside of it. They even have their own key to the place. Seems like far too much to give a trio of trouble making high school students to me."

"It does seem a bit odd." Jazz admitted with a frown. "I take it you don't get along with them, Miss Spectra?" She asked.

"Not in the least." Spectra frowned, crossing her arms. "Recently that Sam girl has been giving me nothing but grief. She shows up for sessions with me but never seems to actually want to get into why she's even there. The last session she just sat there in silence the entire time. Trying to be creepy or something I guess. I don't really get what her deal is." She rolled her eyes. "The other teachers and students are afraid of her because they claim she's a witch or something and that she claims that she was the one who brought Phantom back from the grave or something like that. I don't believe a word of it myself. I'll give you ghosts, but magic? _Please_."

"I have to say, you're one of the first people to really talk to me much about them since I got here. Everyone else is pretty close lipped." Jazz noted.

"Like I said, they're all scared." Spectra shook her head. "Of a bunch of teenagers, even. I don't understand it myself. I understand even less what Sam seems to have against me. All I'm trying to do here is my job, trying to help the students her overcome their problems," Again, Jazz noticed that her eyes and her body language didn't quite match up, and she couldn't help but wonder exactly what Spectra's definition of 'help' was, especially since she seemed so eager to badmouth students to other teachers. "...And she's getting in the way of that by taking up my valuable time. Apparently, if the Trio wants something from you, you aren't allowed to refuse them. One of the unwritten rules of Casper High School."

"That does sound a bit odd." Jazz frowned. What was everyone so afraid of? Was it because of Phantom? She shivered a little, suddenly recalling the essay that he had submitted to her yesterday. _We like you better than the last agent. _What had that even meant? Other than that, they had given no signs of knowing of her true identity as a member of the FBI, and she had no reason to expect that a trio of teenagers would know anything about her mission here.

And yet if she didn't miss her guess, it seemed like the Trio knew more about what was going on in Amity Park than anyone else in the town. There was something in the way that they whispered to each other in a language that nobody else could understand that gave Jazz that feeling, something in the knowing looks that they shared with each other.

"So, how long have you been here then, Miss Spectra?" Jazz asked, feeling the sudden urge to change the topic. Students were starting to arrive, after all.

"Around a year or so." Spectra told her. "The last person who held my post died suddenly of a heart attack." She shrugged her shoulders. "She was old though, I guess her heart just couldn't take it. It's a pretty nice town, overall I've got no real complaints. If you can get past teaching Team Phantom," she said, rolling her eyes at the moniker that they had given themselves. "Then you'll do well here, I think. I looked over your records, pretty impressive. Especially for someone so young."

Jazz didn't miss the faint hint of jealousy that flashed through the woman's eyes then, nor the hint of it that crept into her voice. She didn't like this Penelope Spectra woman, Jazz had decided, there was something about her that put her ill at ease as if she couldn't get quite comfortable around her. However, she chose to say nothing, instead nodding her head and smiling.

"Yes well, I worked very hard." Jazz told her simply. "I think the students are starting to come in for the day Miss Spectra, so I'm sure you should be at your office in case there's anyone who needs any early morning counseling?"

"Oh yes, I suppose. That does happen on occasion." Spectra noted, frowning a little. "Always busy." With that, the older woman dismissed herself, heading back towards her office. Jazz frowned as she watched her go, wondering why she had even come here in the first place. Was it just to attempt to speak poorly of Sam to her new teacher, because if that was the case, then Jazz wanted no part of that. She wondered how a woman like _that _had ever managed to get a job as a student therapist in he first place, because she was having her doubts that Spectra was the kind of person who actually wanted to help people. More like use other people's misery to make herself feel better, and to give herself the illusion of power over the students.

"Good morning, Ms. Fenton."

Speaking of the devil, Sam Manson slid into the classroom, being the first one to arrive. Jazz blinked, finding herself looking for the other two, before realizing that Sam was alone. "Oh, good morning Miss Manson." Jazz said, smiling at her. "You're here rather early. Where are your friends?" She asked her.

"Oh, they're a little tied up. But they should be coming to class on time today." Sam told her, taking her seat and setting down her book bag, which Jazz noticed was in the shape of a plush spider. She smiled a little at that, almost finding it a bit cute. "I wanted to apologize for Danny's little prank yesterday. He said he already did, but sometimes he lies about these things, so..."

"Oh, he did, no worries." Jazz shook her head, biting her tongue and wanting to bring up Phantom's essay. Something in Sam's gaze almost seemed to challenge her to do so, and it was for that reason that she decided _not _to. "I hear he does that to every new member of the staff, though. Perhaps you should speak to him about it sometime before he accidentally gives someone a heart attack."

"Yes, I should." Sam noted, slowly nodding her head, seeming a bit disappointed when she realized that Jazz wasn't going to say anything. "He seems to like you though, and Tucker as well. I haven't quite made up my mind about you yet, though. Perhaps you should tell me a little about yourself, Ms. Fenton, and try to change my mind?"

"Like what?" Jazz blinked, gazing across the classroom towards her student, not breaking eye contact with her. "I'll answer anything that I can. Did something happen with your last English teacher though, Sam? It seems like you're rather suspicious of me." She frowned, her face a mask of perfect concern- but she knew right away that Sam could see right through it, so she dropped it quickly.

"He betrayed the trust of one of the students." Sam said simply. "That's all I care to say about the matter. That's not my tale to tell."

"Just his ghost story?" Jazz questioned, quirking a brow.

"Ah, so you've heard that one already. Yes, it's true, I do tell ghost stories. Basing them off real events makes them even more potent." She told her. "Well, in reality, Mr. Wright simply ran off and skipped town so he could get his book deal, probably." She shrugged her shoulders. "I hope it falls through, in all honesty. But what about you, Ms. Fenton? Why don't you tell me a little about your family?"

"Well, I grew up mostly with just my father." Jazz told her, blinking a little. That question seemed a bit strangely direct to her, although she couldn't figure out why one of her students would want to know about her parents. "My mother divorced him when I was still little. They never hated each other or anything though, but I never exactly saw her again after that." She told her, in the back of her mind, wondering why she was being so forthcoming all of a sudden. One normally didn't talk about such events in detail to complete strangers, but for some reason, Jazz couldn't find it in herself to think this odd. "I heard later that I had a little brother too, although I've never met him before."

"Oh, I see." Sam nodded her head simply. "Did your mother have a name, Jazz?"

"Well, yes." Jazz blinked, once again finding herself being more forthcoming than she normally was, not finding the question odd. "Her name was Maddie, if I recall correctly. My memories of her are a bit vague, but I do remember that she was a very kind mother. I missed her terribly when she left."

"I can understand that." Sam nodded her head slowly. "My mother and I used to fight all the time, to be honest, but lately, she seems to have changed her tune." She told her with a smile. "I don't know what I would do if she ever left me though- I think deep down I was thinking the same things even when we were at each other's throats. She didn't really ever care for my friendship with Danny, you see."

"Oh." Jazz blinked, frowning. "Was that before or after... well, you know."

"Before." Sam told her. "Although it got worse after. Eventually I wore her down." She shrugged her shoulders, a triumphant grin on her face. "You just have to know the right ways of convincing people, in the end. After I finally managed to get mom to realize that Danny was a good friend of mine, and that I wasn't going to give up on that, she hasn't said a word about it since."

"You three _do_ seem very close." Jazz noted.

"Yes, we are." Sam gave her a faint smile. "We've been together forever, after all. We were all born on the same day." She told her. "So our parents decided that we were meant to be friends. Well, my father did at least. My mother never really cared for that decision." She shrugged her shoulders. "My mother never really cared for a lot of things though. I think she was used to being a very controlling person, but she's finally mellowed out. I've been getting along with her much better ever since."

"That's good, then." Jazz smiled a little. "Parents and children shouldn't fight, after all." She nodded her head, then frowned a little. Speaking of parents, wasn't there something that she was forgetting? Oh yes, that was it, she would need to call her father soon and let him know that she had arrived safely. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him yet.

Although for some reason, something about that statement seemed terribly off... wasn't there something that she had been worried about in regards to her father? She frowned, her head starting to throb a little, as if she was feeling the oncoming of a headache.

"Ms. Fenton, are you alright?" Sam asked, quiet concern in her voice. Jazz hadn't even realized that she had gotten up, but she was now standing in front of her desk, clear worry in her eyes. How could Spectra think that a child that could show such a worried expression for a woman she had just met was really so rotten?

"Yes, I'm fine." Jazz gave her a weak smile, removing her hand from her head. She didn't even realize that she had put it there. "Just a bit of a headache. It already seems to be fading, though." She told her, giving the girl a smile. "Well, it's good that you've managed to find such lifelong friends." She said, slowly nodding her head. More students were starting to come in now, although Phantom and Tucker did not appear to be among their number. Not yet at least, as Jazz recalled that they had been the last ones to drift in before the bell yesterday.

"Alright. Take it easy though, Ms. Fenton, we don't want you getting sick." Sam smiled a little, seeming satisfied with that. She went back to sit down at her desk, and by the time Tucker and Phantom had arrived, one walking and the other floating, Jazz had entirely forgotten about anything in concerns to her father, other than the need to call him later and tell him that she had arrived safely. After all, he didn't know that yet, and she was sure that her father was worried because she hadn't called him yet.

By the time Jazz started her homeroom class, she had all but forgotten the fact that she was supposed to call her father. It was if it had slipped through her memories like it had never been there in the first place.

She began to call roll, noticing right away that Valerie Gray was absent today. She was one of the students, alongside Team Phantom, that had stuck out the most. She frowned a little, but didn't think much of it. The Trio's gaze seemed to linger for a moment too long on her empty seat, however, when she called Valerie's name. Jazz noticed this, and frowned a little, unable to place the expressions on their faces- these three were awfully hard to read, she noted. No wonder Sam frustrated Spectra so much.

She was definitely going to be keeping an eye on these three. She still didn't know what kind of connection that they had to the events that were happening in Amity Park, but she wouldn't be all that surprised to find out that they had some knowledge of what was going on. It would go far to explain as to why they all seemed so strange to her, if they were indeed in possession of some hidden knowledge. She doubted that they would simply tell her should she asked, rather, this seemed to be a secret that they were guarding closely.

Jazz didn't think that they directly had anything to do with what was going on, however. Phantom might be a ghost, and although she recalled her father's warnings that all ghosts were evil, aside from his essay, he seemed like a perfectly normal teenage boy. She wasn't a fool, however, and she wasn't about to write them out of her suspicions. After all, placing her undercover as a school teacher wasn't exactly conducive to investigations- putting her into the police department would have been better, Jazz thought. So there must have been a reason why her superiors had selected this as her cover identity- so that she could meet with the Trio, and be in a position to observe them and determine what they knew.

When homeroom ended, Phantom floated up towards her, a small grin on his face. Jazz looked up at him, though she froze, her eyes going wide when he spoke, and instead of English, all that came out was a strange mess of distorted noise, that made her almost want to clamp her hands over her ears in an attempt to drown it out. **"Hey Ms. Fenton. Do you mind if I ask you a question?**"

"Hey Danny!" Tucker called out from the back of the classroom, catching his friend's attention. "English, buddy!"

"Oh, right!" Phantom blinked, flushing bright green, before glancing back at Jazz. "Sorry about that. Sometimes I slip into ghost without meaning to. I heard you heard about it from Mr. Lancer already, but that's a thing that happens." He laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Anyways, can I ask you a question?"

"Sure." Jazz blinked. Another one? The Trio seemed awfully curious about her as well, and if she didn't miss her guess, it was as if they were investigating her in return. She didn't think that was a joke about 'the last agent', although she found it strange that her superiors would have left out the fact that an agent had been previously sent out to Amity Park. It could be some kind of bluff, she supposed, although she didn't know the reason. She decided that she wouldn't give Team Phantom any reason to dislike her, however, as she felt that gathering information from them would be easier if she remained on friendly terms with them.

"Oh well, I just wanted to ask you if anyone had shown you around Amity Park yet." Phantom told her, giving her a small grin. "And to tell you that we would be more than happy to if nobody had. We know it like the back of our hands, you could say!" He told her, glowing a little with pride- and indeed, his ghostly aura flickered a little, becoming stronger as he beamed brightly down at his new teacher. "We could make time to do it this Saturday, if you wanted."

"That sounds lovely." Jazz nodded her head, giving the boy a bright smile. "I would love it if you showed me around town, Phantom, you and your friends. Ah, but don't think that's going to get any of you any extra credit." She told them, a sly smirk on her face.

"Wouldn't dream of it." Phantom laughed, turning back to his friends, giving them a thumbs up. Sam and Tucker grinned at each other, exchanging a high five. "That's great. Do you know where the Nasty Burger is, at least? Because otherwise we can meet up here at school."

"Oh, yeah, I think I know where that is, actually." Jazz nodded her head, recalling seeing it in between her drive from school to her apartment. "That's a fast food joint, isn't it? Not the most appetizing name." She told him, crinkling her nose a little.

"Yeah, I'll admit that it's not the best name." Phantom said, sounding a bit sheepish. "But from what I remember, the food was always really good, and I haven't heard Sam and Tucker complain lately, so." He shrugged his shoulders.

Jazz blanched a little, suddenly recalling that Phantom wouldn't be able to tell that himself now. Even though he was floating right in front of her, she had nearly forgotten that she was speaking with a ghost- perhaps it was simply because he seemed so very human. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "It can't be very fun to feel excluded from things that your friends get to enjoy."

"It's not. I miss food, I'll admit that. I tried eating some once, but it doesn't really do anything for me. No taste buds or anything, so there's not much of a point." Phantom shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands out. "But what are you going to do about it? I've come to terms with being dead, I guess, as awful as that sounds. I mean, there are some perks about it! I can fly, for one thing, that's pretty damn cool, but I think you know that part already." He told her, face flushing green a little again. "I admit, being able to pass through things is pretty cool."

"And then you use your invisibility to prank people?" Jazz asked, raising her brows as she rested her chin in a hand.

"Guilty as charged." Phantom laughed. "Tucker's right though, I probably should cut down on the pranking a little bit. Sometimes it's not always as funny as I hope that it would be. I don't really want to see any people get hurt or anything because of my pranks." He admitted. "You just get a little bored sometimes when you're a ghost."

"I would imagine." Jazz nodded, noticing that Sam and Tucker had already gone on ahead. "Are there any others like you Phantom?" She asked him.

"Not really." He shook his head. "There's lots of imprints all over town, but someone like you wouldn't be able to see those. They don't do much, just echoes a dead person left behind. I'm the only ghost like me in town." He explained. "Well, it's not all bad though. I didn't want to leave Sam and Tucker behind on their own, and now I don't have to."

Jazz hesitated a little, considering the wording of her next question very carefully. "What exactly happened, Phantom?" She asked, concern evident in her eyes- this time it _wasn't_ a mask. At some point, a fourteen year old boy had been killed, and she had the gut feeling that it wasn't just due to an illness or a sudden accident. "I mean, you're so young."

"I don't like talking about it." Phantom told her, his tone suddenly changing, growing sharper. The air in the room seemed to grow heavy with tension, a chill setting into the room that hadn't been there before. "It's very personal."

"Yes, of course." Jazz nodded her head, quick to apologize. She didn't want to anger him, after all. "I'm sorry. I won't ask about it again." She paused then, looking away from him, away from those blazing green eyes, which had grown more intense. "I hope there wasn't much pain."

Phantom let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "There was a _lot _of pain." He told her sharply, before his tone quickly changed. "But it's okay, Ms. Fenton. Don't worry about it. You're just a teacher concerned about her students, after all. I'm not going to get mad at you for asking." He said, and all of a sudden, the tension in the room simply slipped away. She found that she let out a breath that she didn't even know she had been holding, as Phantom's expression eased up.

"Anyways, let's plan on meeting up at the Nasty Burger at maybe ten?" Phantom told her, floating towards the door. "You'll have a great time, I promise, we know all the best place in town. Sam and Tucker can point you towards some great restaurants and we can show you all of the sights! I guess we can show you that dumpy Museum of the Paranormal too, although that place is about as tourist trappy as you can get." He said, rolling his eyes.

"Well coming from a real ghost, I'm willing to believe that." Jazz couldn't help but laugh, but nodded her head. "Okay then, ten sharp in front of the Nasty Burger on Saturday. I'll look forward to it, Phantom. Now get your butt to your next class, you don't want to be late! You shouldn't abuse any privileges you guys might have around here, it's not right."

"Right, right." Phantom grinned, waving at her before he floated through the door, passing through it as if it were not even there. When he finally left the room, Jazz noticed for the first time that the entire place seemed to warm up- she hadn't really paid any attention to the chilling effect that Phantom brought with him before.

"_Still _can't believe dad was right about ghosts." She found herself mumbling underneath her breath. At the mention of her father, Jazz frowned again, once again feeling as if there was something she had forgotten. Pulling out her cell phone, she glanced at it, wondering if she had remembered to call him and tell him she had arrived here safely. Checking the call log, she smiled to herself, seeing that she had, and content with this, she put her phone back away, smiling as her first period students began to trickle in.

She didn't know why she felt as if she was still forgetting something, though.

* * *

"Are you going on, Sam?" Phantom asked, putting a hand on his friend's shoulder, a small look of concern on his face.

"I am. Don't worry about me, Danny." Sam told him, placing a hand over his own, giving the ghost boy a quick grin. "I'm pretty good at what I do, after all. I got that information you wanted after all, didn't I? It wasn't even hard."

"Yeah, and thanks for that by the way. Mom will be so happy to hear about it!" Phantom grinned.

"Okay you lovebirds, Phantom and I still have class to get to you know." Tucker said, pushing the two of them away from each other, frowning a little- which quickly changed into a smirk as each teen flushed brightly at his comment. "Good luck with Spectra, Sam, not that you'll need it. Don't take care of her all by yourself though, that's boring when you do that!" He whined.

"Don't worry, I'll leave some for you guys." Sam said simply, nodding her head. "Tonight we'll go hunting again. What a busy week though we've had! So many things all coming together at once. Danny, I hope your mother's not too mad that we're keeping you out late at night."

"No, she's okay with it." Phantom shook his head. "As long as I get my homework done, anyways. She is pretty lonely though, you two should come over sometime soon and help me clean the place up a little for her. Mother's Day is coming up after all, so I want to do something nice for her! I was thinking of taking Jazz to meet with her, to be honest. I still can't believe it though- are you really sure about what she said, Sam?"

"Quite." Sam nodded her head. "I admit, I was a bit doubtful about the odds, but the information she gave me matches up, Danny. There's very little doubt in my mind that Ms Fenton- or Jazz, I guess, since you seem to be calling her that now- is your older sister. I can't believe you haven't said anything to her yet."

"It'll be a surprise for her too, then!" Phantom grinned, seeming quite eager about this turn of events. "I can take her to meet mom, and we can have a joyous little family reunion! Oh, but I'll have to help mom spruce up a little before then... I wonder how I can do that without raising any suspicions."

"Tell her you want to take her out to someplace fancy." Tucker advised him. "Like that classy French place."

"Oh, that would be nice." Phantom nodded his head. "We haven't gone there lately." He grinned, patting Tucker on the back. "I knew there was a reason we kept you around, Tucker!"

"Hey, I resent that remark." Tucker grumbled. "You two would fall apart without me. I'm the brains of this group, after all. Danny, you're just the muscle, and Sam you're just... well you're the creepy one, but I won't hold that against you." He shrugged his shoulder, grinning a little as he narrowly dodged a half hearted punch from his goth friend.

"Anyways, I'll catch up with you two in second period. I should be finished with Spectra by then. I've already got everything that I need with me, after all." She told them, smiling as she patted her spider backpack. "I'll come snag you once I'm done, and then we can get on with the trail. I'm looking forward to wiping her smug smirk off of her face."

"Well then, we'll catch up to you, Sam. Come on Tucker, you're going to help me think of Mother's Day plans. What do you think I should buy her this year?" Phantom asked, floating off towards their next class.

Sam grinned, turning to look down the hall, towards the direction the student therapist's office was located. A wicked smirk split her face, and her violet eyes seemed to shift unnaturally for a moment. "Wipe that smirk right off your face indeed, Sinner. By the time our little session is over, I'll have you wishing that The Town had never beckoned you here."


End file.
